


Anything But Love

by scheherazade



Category: Big Bang (Band), Korean Actor RPF
Genre: Family Outing (Variety Show), M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherazade/pseuds/scheherazade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Chunhee is that he doesn't have boundaries at the same places other people do. He's like Jiyong, if there could be a Jiyong with no lyrical sense. He's like Seunghyun, if Seunghyun had less insecurity. He's like Youngbae in a weird way, too, or maybe Daesung's just making up excuses in his head.</p><p>He's not sure what it means, if he can't find a plausible reason for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything But Love

**Author's Note:**

> There once was a time when I thought I'd never write Big Bang RPF. Eight years later, here we are. I'm just going to point you in the direction of [these photos](http://imgur.com/a/0UCWY) and leave it at that. All thanks to [ikabarra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ikabarra) for talking me through this fic. You're the best.

Just his luck, the week he has to do Family Outing is the week they're filming at Baekmiri on goddamn Namhaedo. It's a five-hour drive from Seoul. Jiyong brings his notebook and an iPod full of sample recordings. Daesung brings biscuits and fruit candy.

"You'll get hungry later," Daesung says when Jiyong rolls his eyes at him. "Don't beg me for food then."

"Music feeds my soul." Jiyong squints at some lyrics Seunghyun had scribbled. Or maybe it's a grocery list. Daesung leans over and mimes taking a bite out of his notebook.

Three hours into the drive, Jiyong tosses his iPod aside. He kicks Daesung, who's starting to fall asleep. "You have the call sheet?"

Daesung fumbles for his phone. He pulls up the relevant email and passes it over. Jiyong scrolls through the names of the cast and crew, memorizing them as he goes.

"Our call time's 7:30," Daesung mumbles.

Jiyong keeps reading. "Who's Shin Sungrok?"

"Stage actor. He did _Hamlet_."

"That's a lot of people, with two guests."

"Chunhee can't make it." Daesung tugs his hood lower, huddled against the window. "They make do."

Jiyong looks up from the phone. "Is he the one you've been texting?"

"What?"

"Lee Chunhee."

A split second's pause. Then: "What are you talking about?"

Jiyong sits back. He's glad for the partition between the front and back of this vehicle, because wow. "Okay, seriously. How are you _this_ bad at lying when there wasn't even an inquiry? And you're already flustered?"

"Ugh, shut up." Daesung's pout is audible. "Why are you always like this?"

"Is it like one of those celeb conspiracies?"

"Stop using big words."

"Worst kept secret on this show, apart from Yoon Jongshin's connections." A thought occurs to him; he prods Daesung. "Do the crew know, too?"

Daesung jerks his arm away. "No. Shut up."

His tone drops from annoyed to sub-zero in two seconds flat. The hairs on the back of Jiyong's neck stand up; he fiddles with the AC control on his side of the car. Daesung folds his arms, turns his face away.

They cross Namhae Bridge just after sunrise. Blue ocean fades to green terraced slopes. This is the longest silence Jiyong's ever heard from Daesung.

"Hey," he says finally, "are you mad?"

Daesung shrugs. "Just tired. Sorry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jiyong lets it go. He looks out the window to the road passing by, and puts a mental asterisk next to the name _Lee Chunhee_.

 

* * *

 

In Baekmiri, Jiyong gets a front-row seat to Daesung and Yoo Jaesuk's ridiculous "Dumb & Dumber" double-act. Daesung plays his scripted part to perfection — because it matches him well; he's not that great of an actor. When they phone Chunhee during dinner, Jiyong keeps an arm slung around Daesung until Kim Sooro ends the call.

The night turns unseasonably cold for July. They share a packet of biscuits before bed, and Jiyong wakes up twice to Daesung tossing and turning, arms outstretched as if looking for something to hold.

When Chunhee shows up during morning filming, the first word out of his mouth is Daesung's name.

They go scuba diving off the coast. Chunhee spends so long in the water, the PD tells the on-boat camera to stop filming and conserve battery life. Jaesuk uses the downtime to clean his glasses. He shakes them, holds them up against the sky, squinting through the blurry lenses.

Hyori scolds, "You'll drop them in the ocean."

"Are you worrying about me?"

"No. You drop them, I'm dropping you in, too."

Yejin giggles as Jaesuk face-faults like a cartoon character. "I already went into the water! Don't you see all these abalones I picked?"

"Last time, the PA had to go all the way back to the hotel for your spare pair."

"You lost a pair of glasses?" Jiyong asks.

Jaesuk makes an exaggerated sound of protest. "It's not that. I went to sleep and they were fine, but when I woke up — Hyori probably stepped on them on her way to the bathroom."

Hyori smacks his arm. "Stop telling lies."

"The real Hyori Effect," Jaesuk stage-whispers. "Always prepare for disaster."

"Chunhee was the one getting up in the middle of the night," Hyori retorts. "Him or Daesung. I heard them walking around."

Four pairs of eyes turn toward Daesung, who puts up his hands. "It wasn't me!"

"I heard you get up."

"He's such an erratic sleeper," Yejin adds. "Last week, in Kanggol, I heard him singing on the porch at like four in the morning."

"Oh?" Hyori turns toward said erratic sleeper, who's currently trying to hide behind Jiyong's shoulder. "Were you serenading her, Daesung?"

"Unnie!" Yejin protests at the same time Daesung whines, "Aye, noona!"

Jaesuk collapses against Hyori, the two of them cracking up like clams. Yejin throws a bit of seaweed in their direction. It lands on Jaesuk's face, and Hyori laughs even harder. "Ow, my stomach," she wheezes, as Jaesuk tries to dislodge the seaweed by blowing on it.

"This is a real scandal now," Jaesuk cackles.

"Should we put a camera outside, too?" the PD asks, at which Daesung looks horrified.

Jaesuk snorts. "You'd get hours of Jongshin shuffling to the bathroom. Or calling his manager. 'Eh! Where's my medicine?'"

"'Shiyoon-ah!'" Hyori joins in the imitation of their eldest co-host. "'Get my medicine, Shiyoon-ah!'"

Beside him, Daesung just shakes his head. Jiyong slings an arm around his shoulders, because he's allowed to do that. For all that Daesung can't shut up about Family Outing during the week, the people here are nowhere close to knowing him as well as Jiyong does.

"Go for a swim?" Jiyong suggests.

Daesung eyes the blue-grey sea. Jiyong can see him measuring the distance from the surface to the camera, which is getting ready to start rolling again as Chunhee's time limit draws near. A two-minute reprieve is still better than nothing.

Daesung smiles at him, because understanding is born of familiarity. "Yeah." He turns toward Yejin, "Noona, I'm going to warm up the water for you!"

"Okay," Yejin calls, "be careful!"

Jiyong allows himself a fierce grin and dives in after Daesung. The water rushes past his ears, blocking out all sound. The world turns murky teal. Salt stings his eyes when he comes up for air.

Daesung whoops, and the open sound carries for miles and miles.

 

* * *

 

"How obvious _are_ you?" Jiyong asks the minute they pile back into the car.

Daesung struggles with his knotted earbuds. "What?"

Jiyong plucks the cord from Daesung's clueless hands. He untangles it in one try. "Is the double-act with Yoo Jaesuk rubbing off on you?"

"Jaesuk's a genius." Daesung plugs the earbuds back into his iPod. "A variety genius."

"I'm not talking about him."

"What?"

"Lee Chunhee."

And again, Daesung goes suddenly icy and still. This time Jiyong's prepared for it. He flicks Daesung's forehead — "Ow!" — and crowds closer. He snatches one of the earbuds, relieves it of Daesung's iPod and plugs in his own.

"Seriously, _you_ were gonna keep secrets? From _me_?"

"There's no secrets!"

Jiyong scrolls to _Lies_ just to make a point. He shifts closer to Daesung, close enough to elbow him every time the car jostles over a bump on the road leading back to Seoul.

"Look, this isn't Family. When it's you and me, we don't lie. Got it?"

Daesung drops his head against Jiyong's shoulder. "Do we have to?"

Jiyong shoves him. "You made me think it was something serious, when you just have a stupid girl-sized _crush_."

The mumbled response sounds something like "do _not_ ".

"So what's gonna be your relationship?" Jiyong asks. "The 'Family's Handsome Bachelors'?"

Daesung snorts. "Yeah, me. Right."

"Uh, have you _seen_ your older co-stars?"

"The PD said it's 'too sincere'."

"Yoon Jongshin is?"

"Me and Chunhee." Daesung's head is still pillowed on his shoulder. "They can't figure out how to script us."

A pause.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know." Daesung hides his face against Jiyong's jacket. "He's really nice."

Jiyong snorts. He shoves Daesung, "Okay, that's it. Band membership revoked. Contrary to appearances we're not actually a bunch of teenage girls."

"You're the one who wanted to talk about it!"

"I was gonna support you in your manly emotional confusion, not sit around and braid your hair."

"You're the worst." Daesung flops against the window, throwing his hood over his face. "See if I tell you anything again."

"You can't keep a secret from me, and you know it."

Daesung ignores him and pretends to sleep. Jiyong flips open his notebook, grinning to himself. He uses Daesung's earbuds to listen to Seunghyun's latest rap segment. The sound quality is shit, but so is the recording. Jiyong makes a note beside Seunghyun's lyrics: _stop letting seungri give suggestions on your verses_.

The sun sinks low beyond Daesung's window. The shade creeps more and more toward Jiyong's side of the car. Eventually Daesung follows the shadow over, and Jiyong lifts his arm to make room for him.

 

* * *

 

It went something like this:

In Kanggol, at the end of June, Daesung woke up in the middle of the night. He blinked at the ceiling for a long minute. The room breathed with the soft sounds of sleep. After a while, he registered the draft coming in.

He stepped carefully over Jaesuk's sleeping form. Through the crack in the door, he could see someone sitting on the porch. Chunhee looked up as Daesung pushed the door back into its frame with a soft _thump_.

"Hey."

Silver on Chunhee's hand when he waved. He wore that ring even to sleep, apparently. "Did I wake you?"

"The door was open," Daesung said. He's a bit fuzzy around the edges. "You're not tired?"

"It was getting too hot."

Chunhee didn't look upset at being disturbed. Daesung paced closer, sat down on the ledge next to him. His legs dangled above the ground. "I think somebody was snoring earlier."

"It was Sooro."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Chunhee had a really nice smile. "I'd know that sound anywhere."

The night felt cool on his face. "That action scene in the bamboo forest earlier," he heard himself say. "You looked cool with the fight choreography."

"Yeah?" Chunhee's surprise carried an audible tint of pleasure. "You think so?"

Daesung curled his toes. "Really cool."

"Sooro says I over-act everything."

"I think it looks good."

"That's nice to hear."

The dark didn't feel so heavy, between them. Daesung caught himself singing under his breath when Chunhee started to hum along. They got as far as _I, I've dreamed of you and me_ before Chunhee faltered.

" _And time stopped,_ " Daesung prompted.

"Ah, yeah." A pause. "Actually, this song makes me cry."

His tone was almost apologetic. Daesung couldn't help the laugh.

"It's a beautiful song," Chunhee said, defensive.

"No, I know."

"What?"

"I just thought I was the only one."

"Only one?"

"Songs always make me cry." Admitting it didn't feel as awkward as he'd thought. He kicked his legs against the ledge. "Jiyong says it's okay for publicity, but he'll wring me like a towel if I ever mess up a group number."

That made Chunhee laugh.

Daesung lost track of how long they sat outside. Chunhee's hand warm on his shoulder, voice low as he said, "Come on, you're falling asleep," and guided Daesung back inside. They narrowly avoided stepping on Jaesuk's face. Chunhee closed the door, and Daesung fell asleep right on top of his blanket.

In the morning, Jaesuk woke to a pair of broken glasses. Daesung somehow managed to keep a straight face when the PD asked if he'd slept well.

 

* * *

 

Hyori made them all exchange phone numbers after the first cast meeting. She called Daesung once, sent a barrage of mass text messages, and never answered when anyone actually needed her.

After Kanggol, Daesung got a text from Chunhee. _We're going to Namhaedo again??_ it read. _So far away ahhhh._

Daesung found himself smiling for no reason. _It's only an hour by plane,_ he wrote back.

 _We're going by car,_ came the response, and: _I wish we could go to Jejudo instead._

_Jejudo?? That's even farther!_

"What are you smiling at?"

Daesung ducked automatically. But Seunghyun anticipated it, and Daesung ended up with ruffled hair anyway. He snapped his phone shut and pressed his hands to his head. "I just fixed that."

"Tousled is in fashion." Seunghyun flopped down on the couch without waiting for Daesung to move over. His feet wound up in Daesung's lap. "Who you texting?"

"Family. You know next week—"

It's amazing, really, how fast Seunghyun got himself up off the couch and back into the adjoining room. "Hey, Jiyong, you wanted to rework those lyrics?"

"I thought you didn't want to," came Jiyong's accusing voice.

"What? Why would I say that..."

The door closed. Daesung grinned, looking back down at his phone.

 _Can't make it to Namhae this week,_ Chunhee wrote. _Jejudo I'd get to take a plane and maybe I'd get there in time._

 

* * *

 

 _A stupid girl-sized crush_ is what Jiyong calls it, after Baekmiri. (Jiyong also smacked him as soon as they woke up the second morning. "Are you a demolition derby in your sleep? My bruises have bruises now." Daesung hit him with a pillow, and Jiyong yanked Daesung's hood over his eyes.)

Moral of the story: don't bring bandmates onto your variety show. Ever.

In Bolitgogae, Daesung stays awake long after everyone else has fallen asleep. He sneaks out to the back porch, careful to close the door after himself. A few minutes later, it opens again. Chunhee folds himself into a sitting position. He looks pale in the moonlight.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'll be fine."

"Stomach still hurting?"

"A little." Chunhee chuckles under his breath. "I told Sooro-hyung it's from him bullying me all the time."

Daesung snorts at the mental image. "Did he believe you?"

"No. But he gave me an extra blanket when we were getting ready for bed."

They share a laugh at that.

By the time they go back inside, Hyori has migrated into Chunhee's sleeping spot. Daesung kicks his own blanket aside to make room. In the morning, Chunhee doesn't complain about bruises.

In Doteumbyut, they make raspberry wine and write poems. Chunhee uses two sheets of paper, but only reads from the second.

"What else did you write?" Daesung asks later. The night is deep and quiet, the two of them out behind the house again. It seems silly to wonder if a person can become a habit.

Chunhee twists the ring on his finger. "Some random lines. I memorized a lot of poetry when I was younger."

"Ah." Daesung pulls his knees up to his chest. "Like what?"

A pause.

" _We all long to be something,_ " Chunhee recites softly. " _You, to me, and I, to you, long to become a gaze that won’t be forgotten._ "

Daesung breathes out. "Who's that by?"

"Kim Chunsoo. I've forgotten a lot of it."

"It's nice."

"Yeah," Chunhee agrees.

It's comfortable, the way silence creeps up on them like a cat. Daesung rests his head on his knees.

In a corner of the porch sit the empty soju bottles from earlier. He wonders how much raspberry wine costs, in Seoul. _I, to you._ He remembers Chunhee feeding him a bite of fruit while they were making the wine. Remembers opening his mouth and tasting the salt sweetness of bare skin.

The thing about Chunhee is that he doesn't have boundaries at the same places other people do. He's like Jiyong, if there could be a Jiyong with no lyrical sense. He's like Seunghyun, if Seunghyun had less insecurity. He's like Youngbae in a weird way, too, or maybe Daesung's just making up excuses in his head.

He's not sure what it means, if he can't find a plausible reason for this.

 

* * *

 

Taeyeon charms the entire cast and crew within an hour of her arrival. Well, everyone except Hyori and Yejin. But that's probably why they booked Honki for the same week. In Daesung's opinion, Honki is a lot sweeter than Taeyeon. Not that it stops Chunhee from following Taeyeon around like he's her boyfriend — or chauffeur, maybe.

"Are you jealous?" Chunhee laughs when Daesung points this out.

The moon sails low beyond the garden wall. Daesung kicks up dust with his feet. "Why would I be jealous of you?"

"Are you jealous of her?"

Chunhee's smile is slivered like the moon. Something drums against his ribcage; Daesung refuses to believe it's his heart.

"That makes no sense," he retorts, and Chunhee just smiles.

 

* * *

 

Yejin shows everybody the pictures from her ice cream commercial with Chunhee. You can practically hear her sweet laugh in the photo, perched on Chunhee's back like they were always meant to be together.

"Are you jealous?" Chunhee asks again.

"That was supposed to be my commercial."

"You already did one for them."

"Yeah, well." Daesung sticks out his tongue. "Not like you can carry me anyway."

He knows where he's leading this conversation. But when Chunhee holds out his arms, Daesung hesitates.

"We're not filming a commercial."

"I won't drop you."

He lets himself be drawn closer. He loops his arms around Chunhee's neck, and Chunhee gathers him up, bridal-style. His palms feel sticky despite the cool September night. He can feel Chunhee's quick breathing through the thin layer of his t-shirt. Their faces seem suddenly too close.

Daesung tenses, and Chunhee wobbles. Somehow they untangle themselves without falling on their asses.

"Okay," Chunhee admits, "maybe not."

"Told you so." Daesung dusts off his shoulder, though there's nothing there but linen.

Chunhee smiles his defeat. "You know," he says after a bit, "I thought they'd let me try the ice cream at least."

"It would melt."

"No, not on set, obviously. But like, after."

Daesung wipes his palms on his pajama bottoms. "We could, in Seoul. If you want." It takes all his courage not to avert his eyes.

Happiness is the most natural look on Chunhee.

"Okay," he says. "I'd like that."

 

* * *

 

"Where are you going?"

Daesung laces up his boots and bounds past Jiyong. "Sorry, can't talk, already late, see you!"

Seunghyun appears in the doorway, nearly bumping into Daesung and crowding him back inside. "Whoa, you're all dressed up. Got a date?"

"Daesung has a date?" Seungri pokes his head into the room. "Did some girl lose a bet?"

Youngbae bonks him with a rolled-up magazine as he walks by. "Respect your betters."

"Seriously," Jiyong grabs hold of Daesung's arm, "we're supposed to be having a night off. All of us."

"Yeah," Daesung agrees, "so this is me, taking a night off."

"And going where?"

"To dinner."

Jiyong stares. "Wait. Are you _actually_ going on a date?"

"Oh, Jiyong," Seunghyun fakes an exaggerated swoon, "our Daesungie's all grown up."

Youngbae snorts from behind his magazine. "Yeah, your Daesung's a strong, modern woman now."

"Kids these days have no respect for tradition," Seunghyun sighs.

"Chunhee-hyung's treating me to dinner, okay?" Daesung twists free of Jiyong's hold. "Stop talking about dates. You're going to get me into trouble."

"Nobody would believe it anyway," Seungri adds helpfully.

Jiyong's eyes are boring holes through the side of Daesung's head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Daesung shrugs on his jacket. "Was I supposed to?"

"No secrets."

"It's not a secret."

"What would you call it?"

"A good meal that I'm missing." Daesung stares at Seunghyun until he moves out of the way with an apologetic shrug at Jiyong. "See you later."

"Have fun," Seungri calls after him.

 

* * *

 

Autumn arrives with rain. In Haenomi, Daesung sits huddled against the house, feet pulled up to avoid the drizzle falling like a veil. He hopes it stops by morning.

The door opens.

"What's our call time tomorrow?" Daesung asks.

Chunhee sits down beside him. "They said whenever it gets light enough. Might rain all day."

Daesung groans. Chunhee makes a sympathetic sound.

"I nearly stepped on Jaesuk," Chunhee says after a bit.

"Again?"

"He put his glasses away, at least."

Daesung remembers Kanggol, and Baekmiri. "Junsu keeps hitting me when he rolls over."

"Not enjoying sleeping next to DBSK?"

"What, you jealous?"

"Ha. Maybe a little." Chunhee clasps his hands around drawn-up knees. His left index finger is bare.

"You're not wearing your ring," Daesung says without thinking.

Chunhee glances down. "Yeah."

"Did you lose it?"

"No. It was past time I stopped." Chunhee's looking out beyond the garden wall. "The person who gave it to me left a long time ago."

Daesung sneaks a glance at his face in profile. "Someone you loved?"

"The first."

"When did you meet?"

"High school. We were both going to performing art schools, but we didn't get into the same one. It didn't work out."

"Did you ever meet up again?"

"Yeah, after I came back from the army." Chunhee smiles faintly. "We're friends now."

Rain pitter-patters on rooftops and trees. Daesung suddenly remembers their questionnaire game from earlier.

"Wait. You said you've never been dumped."

Chunhee's smile turns crooked. "That's not what the question asked."

"But you said—"

"I've never been dumped," Chunhee says, "by a girl."

A stray tuft of hair falls into his eyes. Daesung can't seem to move his hands to brush it away. Chunhee doesn't look at him.

He can hear Jiyong's voice in his head: _how obvious are you?_

"Is it okay," Daesung asks, "for you to tell me that?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"You."

And it's not that Daesung is trying to be obvious. But he can't think of any reason otherwise. He sticks his cold hands into his hoodie pocket.

His thumb bumps against a hard, cardboard edge. He pulls out the bar of Toblerone that Yejin gave them earlier. "Oh."

Chunhee looks up. "You still have that?"

"I was saving it."

"For tomorrow?"

"No." Daesung rips open the packaging and holds it out.

There's a long pause.

Chunhee breaks off a piece of chocolate. "Thanks."

They eat together with the rain splashing just beyond their feet. Everybody knows about Chunhee's sweet tooth at this point. It still feels good to see him smile around a bite.

There's a bit of chocolate melted on the corner of his mouth. Daesung doesn't trust himself to point it out.

"I'll buy you better food next time," Chunhee says.

"Huh?"

"In Seoul."

"I like cut noodles, though."

"I can make you cut noodles at home. You like Western food?"

Daesung crumples up the foil wrapping. "Guess we'll find out."

It starts to rain in earnest. Chunhee draws Daesung's hood over his head for him. They go back inside.

 

* * *

 

The drum set in Heoumri bears the evidence of being well-loved. Daesung thumps an absent-minded rhythm, watching Jongshin and Yejin consult with the PD as they arrange a score for this impromptu Family Band. The cameras wait on them. By the door, one of the PAs is nodding off. Daesung muffles a yawn.

Hyori slides in behind the drum set. "Yo."

"You got the wrong small-eyed brother."

"Aw, you know you're still my favorite."

"You ranked me below Chunhee again."

"I can't put you two together every single week."

Daesung glances at her. She's watching the rest of the room. The mics are off, and nobody's listening.

"When did you two get so close anyway?"

Daesung shrugs. "Well, it's what happens," he says with exaggerated grandeur, "when you spend a lot of time with someone. You stop feeling awkward."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Unlike you and Kim Jongkook."

Hyori ducks her head when she laughs. "Don't you start, too."

"How long have you known him?"

"It's not like that. We don't even talk."

"You have his phone number, don't you?"

"I have all your phone numbers."

"So call him."

"I can't just call him."

"Sure you can. 'Hey, oppa? Ah, I was just thinking about you! You were so cool last week when you carried me during the game...'" Daesung bats his eyelashes for full effect.

"You're learning all the wrong things from Jaesuk."

"Jaesuk is a genius, you know."

"He only got married because Kyungeun got tired of waiting for him to ask first."

"Exactly." Daesung grins. "You have to be like that when it comes to Jongkook."

Hyori buries her face in her hands. "I can't believe I'm getting relationship advice from a kid."

"Hey, I'm twenty this year."

"Yeah, which means there's nobody here in your dating bracket."

"Dating bracket?"

"You know, like — you divide your age by half and add seven, and that's the youngest age of a person you can date. My guy could be fifty-six."

Daesung's never been good at mental math. It must show, because Hyori suddenly shoves him with a laugh.

"Oy, whose age are you calculating?"

"Yours," he lies.

"I just told you mine."

"I'm doing the other one."

"You're too young for me." Hyori's eyes are bright with amusement. "Thirty divided by two plus seven is twenty-two."

Daesung scoffs at her. He fiddles with the drum sticks. "You should date someone older than you anyway."

"Would you date someone older?"

"Depends."

"Chunhee," Hyori says, and Daesung freezes, but she continues, "Chunhee dated someone older than him."

They're both thirty, Daesung knows. "So there's hope for you yet."

"Of course there is." She ruffles his hair. "Brat."

The PD calls out their two-minute warning, motioning for boom to get ready as the camera swings up for a wide shot. Hyori leaps back to her place, center stage with Jongkook. Yejin returns to her keyboard. Chunhee picks up the bass.

Daesung twirls the drum sticks, and Jongshin nods his cue.

"Five, six, seven, eight—"

 

* * *

 

" _The neighborhood kids didn't know they were cold,_ " Daesung hums, " _standing on that hill._ "

"You're gonna get it stuck in my head again," Hyori complains.

Across the aisle, Chunhee looks over Hyori's head at Daesung. He grins. " _Grandfather had made a kite blowing_ —"

"— _pretty little tail waving in the sky,_ " Jaesuk crows in a completely new key. Daesung rolls with the modulation. Jaesuk waves for the row behind them to join in, effectively boxing Hyori into a rousing chorus.

" _Take my heart,_ " Sooro bellows, while Jongkook laughs, " _let it fly high, carrying my dreams._ "

" _Become_ ," Jaesuk wails like a death metal tribute band, " _become a point in my miiiiiiiind!_ "

"I hate all of you." Hyori snags Chunhee's headphones and jams them over her head, then shuffles back to sit behind Jongkook. Jaesuk hollers after her, "Do you love him or something?"

Jongkook slouches down until only the top of his head can be seen.

"Please just let Daesung sing next time." Yejin rubs her temples. "That was so off-key."

"Oh, that's right." Jaesuk leans over the back of Yejin and Jongshin's row. "You have perfect pitch. Hey, what note is this? 'Eh!'"

"Please," Jongshin sighs, "aren't you getting too old for that kind of disrespect?"

"A-flat," Yejin says, and Jaesuk topples over cackling.

Daesung skips across the aisle to take Hyori's vacated seat. He offers Chunhee one of his earbuds. Chunhee has to lean down a little because of their height difference. Daesung hits _play_.

Two bars in, Chunhee laughs and jerks the earbud away. "Seriously?"

Daesung gives him an innocent look. "It's a beautiful song."

"You're trying to make me cry."

"Why would I do that?"

"Why are you listening to 'I Believe'?"

"Didn't you read the call sheet? This week's guest is Cha Taehyun. Cha Taehyun!"

"You liked that movie?"

"It's a classic."

"It's not even a decade old yet." Chunhee laughs at the affronted look on Daesung's face. "I never liked classics anyway."

The pilot's voice comes over the intercom as the seatbelt sign blinks on. _We are expecting some light turbulence. It is advised that you remain in your seats until the light goes off. Thank you._ Daesung buckles himself in. Chunhee checks that his seatbelt is tightened.

"So you don't like _My Sassy Girl_?" Daesung asks.

Chunhee shrugs. He pops the earbud back in as Daesung scrolls through some classic rock albums. "It's good, I guess."

"What don't you like about it?"

"I just said it's good."

"Which means you don't like it."

Chunhee makes a face. "I don't know. The ending — it's too convenient. Like, everything from the time machine to the arranged meeting."

"Wait, what time machine?"

"The old man was Gyeonwoo from the future."

"He was not! That was a metaphor."

"No, there was a wooshing sound. Go rewatch it with subtitles. It actually says 'time machine sound' when he disappears."

Daesung face is a perfect comic-book look of surprise. "Oh my god, you're kidding me."

"It's true."

"This movie's even cooler now," Daesung says after a moment.

"Really? You like that kind of thing?"

"It's pretty romantic, don't you think?"

"I don't think determinism is all that romantic."

"Determinism?"

"If love is pre-determined by God or fate — that's basically an arranged marriage." Chunhee shrugs. "Wouldn't you rather choose?"

"I would," Daesung answers slowly, "but I'd probably choose wrong."

"It's easier to let somebody else make big decisions for you."

"I know it's not right."

"I'm not saying it isn't. Just, you know. A lot of people spend their whole lives being scared."

"Of what?"

"Decisions."

Daesung is quiet for a minute. "I think you're right," he says. "But I'm not great at thinking about these things. You could also be completely lying, and I wouldn't know."

Chunhee bumps his shoulder lightly. "I wouldn't do that."

Daesung smiles back. "I know. It sounds like a good philosophy anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It means you always get to choose love, right?"

Daesung's hand finds his under the armrest separating their seats. Chunhee squeezes back, surprised; Daesung doesn't let go. His throat suddenly feels tight, but Daesung's still smiling.

"Yeah," he manages. "I guess you could put it like that."

The seatbelt sign stays lit the rest of the way to Jejudo.

 

* * *

 

"Daesung has a girlfriend."

Youngbae doesn't even look up from his laptop. "Seungri's talking in his sleep again."

"He's been texting somebody and not letting me see what he wrote." Seungri sprawls lengthwise across the couch. "And last week, he got home at like two in the morning. He was wearing one of his try-hard outfits."

" _You're_ calling somebody out for being try-hard?" Seunghyun tickles Seungri's feet, making him bolt upright. He sits in the vacated space. "Daesung doesn't care about fashion anyway."

"Exactly! Which makes it proof."

"Proof of what?"

"His secret girlfriend."

"Daesung doesn't have a secret girlfriend."

"I bet it's Lee Hyori," Seungri muses. "He can never shut up about his variety show. I bet that's why he won't show me his texts. Damn, she's so hot."

"Uh-huh. Because he always shows you his private correspondence otherwise."

"He used to! Then he got Lee Hyori's number, and now they're dating."

"Jiyong has her number, too."

"So do I," Youngbae adds.

There's a sudden clock-ticking silence. Youngbae looks up after a minute. Seunghyun and Seungri are both staring at him. He stares right back.

"Why do you have her number?"

"Don't ask if you're not prepared for the answer."

Seungri opens his mouth to talk back again. Seunghyun smacks a water bottle against his chest. "You're not prepared for the answer."

Seungri nearly drops the plastic bottle. "How do you—"

"Where the hell is he?" Jiyong storms in, glaring at his phone as if that'll make it show a different time. "I never should have let them talk him into a variety show. Publicity be damned."

"Calm down, Producer Kwon," Seunghyun says, the same moment Seungri asks, "Is Daesung dating Lee Hyori?"

Jiyong freezes. "What?"

"Is there some side of Daesung I don't know about? Because she is way out of his league."

"And age range," Seunghyun points out.

"Daesung is not dating Lee Hyori." Jiyong turns on his heel, flipping open his phone and making for the hallway where there's better reception. "Stop spreading rumors."

"He's definitely seeing someone!"

"Stop spreading rumors!"

The door slams shut. Seungri looks at Seunghyun, bewilderment written across his face. "What did I do?"

"Don't ask if you're not prepared," Youngbae intones.

 

* * *

 

"We have to do something different for this week's call. Not the usual. Something classy."

Chunhee turns a page in his script. "You mean a pop princess' lifestyle isn't classy? Impossible."

Hyori throws a biscuit wrapper at him. It wafts to the floor. "Wasn't my idea. Apparently they have too many shots of me answering Jaesuk's calls at the studio. PD told me to give him something with a personal touch."

"Yeah, he'd love a personal touch from you."

Hyori throws a hair pin this time. "Be serious."

"What about theater? That's classy."

"That could be good. You like Shakespeare?"

"Not really."

"A musical?"

Chunhee shrugs. "It's your call."

"We're doing this one together, remember?" Hyori skims through text messages on her phone. "How about _Cats_?"

"Daesung's musical?"

Hyori snorts. "Yeah, _Kang Daesung_ 's musical, which also happens to be a critically-acclaimed sensation performed and loved by millions around the globe for decades. How whipped are you, huh?"

"You should be in the musical." Chunhee curls his hands up like cat claws.

"We're doing the call at _Cats_ , then." Hyori waves her phone. "I'm texting the PD."

"Send him my love, too."

"Yeah, _that_ 'll get him hot and bothered."

There's no sound apart from the clicking of Hyori's keypad and an occasional page turn. Chunhee mouths his lines to himself. The dialogue feels awkward, but he can't figure out if it's his inflection or the writing.

Hyori glides over on the rolling chair she'd claimed. She puts her feet up on his thighs. "What'cha doing?"

"Waiting for you to get out of my dressing room."

"Is that any way to treat your friend?"

"You're only like this _because_ we're friends. You wouldn't do this to Sooro-hyung."

"That's because Sooro-oppa is nice to me. Also, he's married."

"Not interested in becoming your third love-line, thanks."

"You're the wrong type anyway." Hyori wiggles her toes. "You know girls really go for that kind of thing?"

"Married men?"

"No, just — guys. Together. You know, like how they have lesbian porn?"

Chunhee nearly drops his script. "Excuse me?"

"What? It's hot."

"It's— No." Chunhee scoots back until Hyori's feet are no longer in his lap. "Nope. We're not talking about this."

"Oh, come on. Everybody thinks about sex."

"Okay, but in context — are we talking about the same thing?"

"Are you telling me you haven't thought about it?"

"About what?"

"Daesung."

Chunhee starts to say _No_. Hyori raises one eyebrow; he closes his mouth again. She rolls her eyes.

"You're actually as useless as they scripted you."

"He's _twenty_."

"And in love with you."

"It's not like that."

"Are you kidding me? Even Jongkook's started to notice, and he's about as dumb as they come."

"Is that why he still doesn't know about your raging crush on him?"

"I never—" She narrows her eyes at him. "Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm just saying."

"Are you two dating or what?"

"It's not like that, I told you."

"Tell me again." Hyori sits with her arms crossed. "Because he's fallen so hard for your useless ass, I'm surprised he can still see straight, and I know you've been taking him out on dates. So tell me exactly what's going on, if this isn't what it looks like."

It's like he's falling down a slick riverbed, feet swept out from under him. "We haven't done anything."

"Meaning?"

"He hasn't made a move."

"Yeah, because he's a kid! You think he knows anything about this?"

"No, and you know perfectly well," a snap of frustration straightens his spine, "it's never going to be anything. It doesn't work like that."

"Are you _scared_?" Hyori's giving him an incredulous look.

Chunhee turns his back to her. "It wouldn't last anyway."

The silence between each second seems to get progressively longer. He picks up a highlighter and marks all the awkward phrasings in his script. The yellow dots multiply before his eyes. He hears Hyori stand up.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she says, "because I'm sure as hell Daesung doesn't."

The words on the page are blurring slightly. He scratches out another line.

The door clicks shut.

 

* * *

 

Sunday brings winter's first snow. He gives his gloves to Hyori, who starts shivering as soon as they exit the car. She rolls her eyes at him, but takes his arm as they make their way to their seats.

They film the call during intermission. Hyori pulls it off in one take, and the PD seems satisfied despite Chunhee's stiff expression. The crew bid them a good evening.

Hyori shows him the text message just before the curtain rises again. _Come say hi!!_ Daesung wrote.

"I have a meeting after," Hyori says. "You go."

He texts Daesung and waits outside the side stage door. A few people exit, sparing him a curious glance before hurrying on their way home. The snow continues coming down in soft, wet flakes. His breath mists like smoke. The pavement accumulates a thin layer of white.

The hinges creak again. Daesung bounds down the steps, hat sitting crooked on his head and grin stretching ear to ear. "Hey!"

"Hey. Great show."

"You didn't bring me flowers?" Daesung puts on a patently-fake look of disappointment.

Chunhee spreads his empty palms with an apologetic laugh. "I knew I forgot something."

"Guess I'll forgive you this time." Daesung clasps his hands, the gesture easy and familiar. He frowns when Chunhee shivers. "You're freezing."

"Hyori took my gloves." Chunhee lets Daesung turn his hands over, fold them together, pressed between his own for warmth. There's a faint orange splotch on Daesung's ring finger. "What's this?"

Daesung looks down when Chunhee rubs at the spot of color. "Oh." He looks away, something like sheepishness creeping into his expression. "Um. Balsam. It's stupid. Seungri got bored last week and colored it while I was napping. I've been using concealer to hide it."

"It's not too bad."

"Yeah, mostly faded." He glances up at the cloudy sky. "Good timing, though."

"Does it count if you only put it on in December?"

"Long as it lasts 'til the first snow, right?"

A snowflake lands right on Chunhee's eyelid. "My cousin did it for me one summer," he hears himself say. "I was just a kid. The balsam lasted for like three months, but it didn't snow until mid-January that year."

"Well. Guess you're never marrying your true love." Daesung's eyes are laughing.

Chunhee smiles, pulls his hands away. "It's just superstition."

"You don't believe in fate anyway." Daesung tugs on his hat until it's snug around his ears. He glances around at the empty side street they're on. "What are you doing after this?"

"Nothing much."

"Want to do something?"

"What?"

"Watch a movie?"

"At this hour?"

"Or whatever's at your place. Did you drive here?"

And he's not misreading, can't be, not when the invitation is like an open book in Daesung's eyes and voice and the way his body gravitates closer. Chunhee takes a step back.

It takes him another second to find the words. "This isn't a good idea."

"Well, I mean, I don't mind taking the bus—"

"No, it's." Chunhee breathes. "I can drive you home, if you need a ride."

Daesung's expression shutters closed at that. "Oh." He looks down. "Okay. Thanks."

The walk to his car is long with silence. Chunhee stops himself short of opening the door for Daesung. He starts the engine.

Daesung remains silent until the second red light.

"You can kick my ass if you want," he begins, "but I didn't know I was reading this wrong. I'm sorry if I presumed — if it was inappropriate. I just thought, with everything—"

"It's not," Chunhee interrupts. "You weren't wrong."

Silence.

"What did I do wrong?" Daesung asks quietly.

The light turns green. "It's not a good idea, that's all."

"Why?"

"You're twenty." Chunhee turns onto the freeway. "It's different for me. I've been here before, and it's not new for me. But I know how it is when you're that young. It's all an adventure, and adventures aren't always the best idea."

"Doesn't mean it's always wrong," Daesung says after a bit.

"You don't know what it's like yet."

"No." Daesung sounds certain, on this. "And I don't know what it means, yeah. I'm a lot younger than you, I get that. But I'm not an idiot. I know what I want, even if I don't know what it means. Isn't that more important?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"Why not?"

Chunhee searches for an answer.

"I don't know," he admits at length.

His exit is coming up. Daesung's destination is still a ways after that. The tail lights ahead of them stretch on in an endless crimson thread.

"Can't we find out?" Daesung asks, and the sound knots in his chest.

"You really want this?"

Daesung turns to him in the dark, sure as a needle seeking north. "Yes."

Chunhee breathes out. He takes the next exit.

 

* * *

 

Christmas finds Daesung drying dishes by the sink and humming to himself. Which is how Jiyong finds him as well, because even when humming, Daesung's diva-power voice is _loud_.

"You're in a good mood."

Daesung greets him with a grin. "Holidays are occasions for joy."

"Is that what we're calling it now?"

"What, Christmas?"

Jiyong snags a yogurt drink from the fridge. "Seungri thinks you're secretly dating someone. Like, Lee Hyori."

Daesung laughs as if it's a joke. "Seriously?"

"You staying out all night isn't helping your case." Jiyong leans against the counter, warming the chill bottle between his palms. "Where were you anyway?"

"Out." Daesung shrugs. "You know."

He's still smiling, like he's remembering something. Someone. Jiyong feels his own facial muscles straining. "That's it?"

"Huh?"

"That's — what? What's that supposed to mean? 'Out'?"

Daesung gives him an odd look. "I have my own life." He puts a bowl back in the cupboard.

"Except you're still with us, in case you forgot. Ever since you started that variety show, it's like we barely see you except when it's mandatory."

"Yeah, well," Daesung shuts the cupboard hard enough for it to count as a slam, "it's not like I owe you anything."

Jiyong grabs his arm when Daesung tries to push past him. "You think this is about owing?"

"Let go."

"Not until you tell me where you've been disappearing off to."

"Tough, because it's none of your business."

He jerks free. Jiyong beats him to the door. Shuts it. Daesung stares, all the humor suddenly draining from his face. Jiyong puts his drink down. "Is it that guy?"

"Still none of your business."

"That Lee Chunhee?"

"I told you it's nothing, all right?"

"It can't be both nothing _and_ none of my business." Jiyong fights to keep his voice level. The walls aren't soundproof. "So tell me — please, by _god_ tell me you're not being even stupider than Seungri right now."

"I'm not Seungri."

"No shit, or I wouldn't be worrying."

Daesung turns away. He yanks open the fridge, glaring at its contents. "You never had a problem before."

"I don't."

"Sounds like it."

"I don't care what or who you prefer. You think it's that? That's not my problem, and never will be, but if you're sleeping with that guy—"

Daesung slams the fridge shut. "What's the fucking difference?"

The hurt in his voice makes Jiyong reach out instinctively. He stops himself when Daesung flinches away. His fingers close on thin air.

"You have to know this isn't a good idea."

" _Why?_ " Daesung's voice rasps. "Why is it wrong?"

"I'm not saying—" Jiyong bites back his own words. "It's just how it is. And that's what's wrong, maybe, but that's it."

"And what is that? I'm not allowed to do anything, have anything, because I signed my life away along with my soul? And that's it?"

His anger fills the room. Jiyong breathes and stands still. He asks,

"How do you see this playing out?"

Daesung doesn't meet his eyes.

"Tell me," Jiyong continues. "How? We both know how it ends. There's no such thing as an openly gay idol. I'm sorry, but that's just how it works. You either make it marketable, or you make it go away. Or are you going to hold your hand above the fire just to see if it'll burn?"

"That's not what I want." Daesung's hands are bunched into fists. "I didn't want this."

"No," Jiyong doesn't even try to keep the wistfulness from his own voice, "and I wanted to be a serious artist. But this is what chose us."

Daesung looks at him, and he's suddenly nothing like the person Jiyong met years ago: the dreamer with hopeful, clueless eyes and willingness to do whatever he was asked. Now all Jiyong sees is a hurt little boy. Trapped.

When Daesung pushes past, this time, Jiyong lets him go.

 

* * *

 

In Bukdong, Hyori catches him staring at Daesung. She bumps his hip by way of greeting.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Chunhee lies.

"Uh-huh. Tell me about this nothing."

"I don't like you, you know that?"

"Clearly, when your affections are so well spoken for."

A pause.

"Is it that obvious?"

Hyori just shrugs. "I know where to look."

They both watch Daesung chattering away at Seunghyun, who indulges him with the ease of familiarity. Seunghyun makes to ruffle Daesung's hair, and Daesung promptly ducks. Well-coordinated, like a long dance.

"You changed your mind?" Hyori asks.

"No."

"Something happened."

"Not fit for polite conversation. Sorry."

He can feel her stare. "Wait, is this serious?" is her next question.

"Not more than before."

"What changed?"

"Nothing, I told you. I've been known to be wrong about things." He tries to inflect it like a joke.

Another pause. Hyori lets out a long, whistling breath. Her voice is soft when she says,

"Good luck."

He turns his head just in time to see her leave. When he looks back, Seunghyun is walking toward him. Daesung is nowhere in sight.

"Hey," says Seunghyun. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

 

* * *

 

Seunghyun's been acting dodgy since their afternoon break. Daesung caught him and Chunhee talking in low voices, and they'd broken off as soon as he approached.

"What was that about?" he asks once they're back in the car.

"What was what?" Seunghyun buckles his seatbelt as the car lurches into motion. Bukdong fades behind them. The setting sun points the way west to Seoul. 

Daesung narrows his eyes at Seunghyun's pitchy voice. "What were you and Chunhee talking about?"

"Just talking."

"About what?"

"Nothing. I mean, Jiyong said — it's nothing."

"What?" Seunghyun has a terrible pokerface. The guilty side-glance instantly gives him away. Daesung crowds into his space, not giving him room to dodge. "What did Jiyong say?"

"We always look out for each other," Seunghyun tries. "That's all."

It takes him a second, which is a second too long because he should have known. He should have _known_ — "Are you _fucking_ kidding me right now? Did you try to — what, intimidate him? Is that what Jiyong said?"

"He didn't mean—"

"No. You know what, I don't care what he meant." Anger flares right in his throat. "And you can tell him to fuck off. He does not get to run my life for me. Not this."

The car trundles over a pothole in perfect silence.

"He's just worried," Seunghyun tries.

"And how does telling more people help?"

"What?"

"This is none of your business."

"Daesung." Seunghyun pauses. "I'm on your side. Jiyong and I — we tell each other everything. We all should."

There's no answer.

"We're just trying to look out for you," he adds.

"By doing what?" Daesung snaps. "Coddling me like I'm sixteen, still a baby who doesn't know a fucking thing? Is that supposed to be helping?"

"None of us know how this would work."

"None of _you_ have any business knowing."

"But have you really thought about it?" Seunghyun's discomfort is audible. "I'm not going to lecture you on making good decisions, but — and it's not about protecting the band or label or anything, okay? It's just — you."

Daesung says nothing. Doesn't even look at him. Finally,

"I have."

Seunghyun starts. "What?"

"I've thought about it." Daesung keeps his eyes on the rolling road outside his window. "And I decided — if I fuck up, that's on me. If I want to do it anyway, that's also on me. You don't get to, and Jiyong doesn't get to decide that. Only me."

 

* * *

 

He doesn't go inside. Seunghyun loiters by the door; Daesung turns his back. He holds his phone with both hands. The moon is full and bright. Chunhee picks up on the second ring.

"Sorry about Seunghyun," Daesung says, not pausing to allow for dispute. "It's Jiyong's fault. He keeps trying to run my life for me."

"Ah." Chunhee huffs static down the line. "I mean, it's fine. He just wanted to talk."

"He was being stupid. They all are."

"They care about you."

"Yeah, well—" _I care about you_ sticks in his throat, "—I told them they don't get to do that. Not anymore."

"Don't be mad at them. Don't, for my sake, you know? It can't be like that."

"Can't be like what?"

"They're your bandmates. You have to be there for each other."

"Why? What if I choose not to?"

"I don't know why you would."

"Because. What if," fingernails dig into his palm, "what if there's something more important."

"Don't." Chunhee's voice sounds distorted.

"Isn't this more important?"

"Daesung, don't—"

"Isn't it?"

"It doesn't have to," Chunhee says. "It doesn't have to be like—" A burst of static. "You don't have to call it — love."

The phone bites into his tightening fingers. "Why?"

"It's just a word."

"So why not?"

"Because." The shivering sound isn't all from the phone. "Sometimes you don't get to choose."

The silence carries whispering echoes, non-sounds, nonsense. Daesung grips the phone so hard he can't tell if the creaking is plastic or bone. He tries to imagine Chunhee on the other end of the line. If he's also standing in the cold. If he's trembling. If he's ever considered wearing someone else's ring.

"I want to go away somewhere," he hears himself say. His throat hurts worse than the time he had strep. "America, maybe. Somewhere far. Just one bag, no obligations, no schedule. And it could be just like that — no baggage, except the one, and me and you."

Chunhee breathes. "We'll rent a car or something. Drive for days without a map, only stopping when we want. When you ask."

Daesung tilts his head back, sky above, closes his eyes against the vertigo. "I want that."

"Yeah." _But we can't,_ Chunhee doesn't say. He doesn't need to. Wanting is free; the rest is not.

"When can I see you again?" 

"Friday. I should be done by nine."

"Okay."

"Okay," Chunhee agrees, and that's really all there is.

Daesung ends the call. The temperature drops with the twilight, cold slowly sinking in; he feels solid as stone. The door opens. Jiyong treads softly down the steps, wraps a scarf around Daesung's neck. Hesitantly takes his hand. Fingers scrape over chafed skin, wrecked from too much water and sun.

He lets Jiyong lead him back inside.


End file.
